


DATA Fetish

by UndefinedSnail



Category: Kill la Kill
Genre: M/M, and something kind of analogous to drug use, possibly some slight body horror (but not gore or anything)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:02:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UndefinedSnail/pseuds/UndefinedSnail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inumuta's Ultima Uniform gains USB compatibility. He is not really sure how to feel about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	DATA Fetish

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains an unironic (mis)use of the acronym DTF. I apologize DEEPLY
> 
> And also for how stupid and weird it is. sorry. I’ve never written smut before and it really got out of hand so the whole thing sucks and makes no sense

The three star students of Honnouji had gathered to perform test runs on the latest versions of their respective Ultima Uniforms. There had been design changes, feature upgrades, bug fixes, and various improvements all around. The tests had gone wonderfully.

Now the remaining four of them were taking selfies in their new regalias with Inu’s phone and laptop webcam. Gamagoori didn’t understand the point of selfies, and his Shackle Regalia wasn’t very photogenic to begin with, so he had declined to join them. Iori was present, but after joining them for one group shot he had refused to be in any others, saying he preferred to watch.

It was fun, but Inu couldn’t match Jakuzure’s energy levels for very long, and Sanageyama kept trying to grab his phone, not understanding even the most basic etiquette when it came to electronics. After awhile, he found his mind wandering, indulging in the habit of thinking up ways to flirt with Iori.

Sanageyama couldn’t resist giving Jakuzure bunny ears in multiple shots, and she tried to return the favor, only to realize she was too short to possibly do so. This led to a fight over who had the right to give whom bunny ears. Rather than break up the fight with a snide comment, Inu took his chance to wander a few feet to talk to Iori, who had taken charge of webcam pictures with the laptop.

“These are great, as always, Shiro,” he said, putting a hand on his hip. Calling Iori by his first name no longer yielded any significant reaction, but it had become a habit. “I’m always amazed at how you create uniforms that can perform so well and still be so flattering to my ass.”

Iori laughed and shrugged off the compliment. “Without your analysis, I wouldn’t be able to improve them,” he replied. “It’s a team effort.”

“Even the designs?” Inu said with a grin.

“Uh, I guess not those…” Iori averted his gaze. Inu had to quash the urge to lean in and kiss him. But that was nothing new.

“Oh! I forgot to mention, Inumuta…” Iori said, trying to change the subject. “Your Probe Regalia is now USB compatible.”

“It’s…what? How…?” Inu’s visor may have covered his eyes, but it couldn’t prevent the bewilderment from leaking into his voice as Iori leaned in a bit too close and reached a hand around behind him.

“Haha, wh— Oh.” Inu was cut off in surprise when Iori produced what looked like a USB plug from the small of his back. A thin, taut, black cord traced it back to its place of origin. Inu tried to hide his disappointment, and his shock.

“It was kind of an experiment. I don’t know what exactly will happen when we plug this in, but it should be interesting, right?” Iori said. He didn’t wait for a response before turning to where Inu’s laptop sat, pulling on the USB plug. More inches of wire were drawn out to accommodate it. 

The sight was slightly disturbing for more reasons than one. Inu didn’t _feel_  as if wearing the Ultima Uniform had violated the basic integrity of his body, but…he wasn’t sure if he was imagining things or if he really did feel something just now when Iori pulled that thing out of him, and again when he’d drawn out more of the wire. Moreover, where, exactly, had the entire structure come from?

He didn’t have time to dwell on that thought, because oblivious to his unease, Iori was already inserting the USB plug into Inu’s laptop.

“Wait, are you ok?” Iori said. Or probably said. Maybe. Inu couldn’t really tell because the moment the USB plug of dubious origins connected to his computer, his mind was assaulted by a series of quite intense sensations that dominated his attention.

First, a sharp jolt up his spine at which he could not suppress a sharp intake of breath. It wasn’t painful, but it left Inu feeling slightly electrified. Immediately following the shock came the jarring addition of a new dimension of perception that left him briefly dazed. He could…feel? his laptop, operating system and file directory and all, interspersing with his own thoughts.

But this, too, he had no more than a moment to process before he was hit with a wave of pleasure that traveled the same path the shock from before had forged: up his spine, through his limbs, travelling to all his extremities, eliciting a gasp from his mouth and another reaction entirely from his dick. The sensation persisted, turning his knees to jelly and his mind to fog.

Inu covered his mouth with his hand, partly because he wasn’t sure what kind of noises might escape if he tried to speak now, but also because he couldn’t be 100% sure he wasn’t about to start drooling. The room was getting warmer by the second, except that was probably just his own body temperature rising. It was hard to tell exactly what was going on, and under different circumstances he might have enjoyed it, but it was too sudden, too unexpected, too invasive to really be anything but overwhelming.

Not to mention he wasn’t exactly alone. Enough of his brain was operational to recognize that suddenly drooling and moaning after being mind melded with his computer wouldn’t help his image much. He relished the title of computer geek, but he wasn’t quite willing to be called a computer fetishist.

He had to consider the best course of action as soon as possible, and the other three were probably staring at him right now, though he didn’t feel particularly motivated to turn his head to check. Actually, he realized he didn’t even have to. He could see them plain as day by accessing the live video feed from the camera in the room. Jakuzure and Sanageyama had indeed stopped quibbling to stare along with Iori.

He could see himself, too, leaning heavily over his laptop and trembling slightly, with that uncomfortable-looking wire coming out of his body from just above his ass. Right. The wire. The USB plug. That was the cause of this, right?

Then the solution was simple. He yanked the plug from the port and dropped it like it was hot. His mental connection to the computer vanished instantly. The USB cord zipped back into place like an angry retracting tape measure (measuring tapes are always angry) and snapped right back into the mysterious oblivion it had come from. Inu allowed himself a sigh of relief and sank to his knees as his heart rate slowed to normal and his body cooled down.

Iori was far from calm, though. “What’s wrong, Inumuta? Are you ok? Did something weird happen? Sorry… I should have warned you…” He was hovering over Inu, clearly concerned, but hesitant to touch him. That was fine by Inu, whose skin still felt sensitive and a bit tingly. The other two approached them cautiously, only Jakuzure trying to hide the look of confusion on her face.

“I’m fine. It was just…surprising,” Inu said. He was still reeling from the experience and it showed in his voice. He stood back up on shaky legs, and attempted to look as though he wasn’t still coming down from the most sudden and intense sexual experience he’d ever had in his life. Nobody seemed terribly convinced, but Jakuzure was glad for any excuse to pretend not to be worried.

“Hmph! What was that all about? Can you not handle that new uniform of yours?” She wore her usual smirk as she mouthed off at him, but it seemed relieved rather than genuinely sarcastic. “Well, I guess it was asking a bit much to expect such a data-loving nerd to keep up with us…” She didn’t look at him as she spoke, but glanced over expectantly once she closed her mouth, waiting for a witty response.

He wasn’t sure if he had one just yet. But he did want to reassure her, and everybody else too. He adjusted his glasses—no, shit, wait, there’s a visor there right now, oh well, too late to save face—and said “The uniform _is_  nice, but I’ve never really wanted to have a tail.”

Jakuzure made the kind of half-amused, half-annoyed face that can only be made by people who have just been told a really bad joke, before smiling slightly and huffing. The tension in the room eased up along with her expression. Sanageyama still didn't look as though he had any idea at all what had just transpired. 

“If you don’t like it, you can just have your boyfriend change it, right?” she said, with more bite to her sarcasm this time. Ok, that was possible, but Iori wasn’t his boyfriend. _Yet_ , said some part of his mind.

“Very funny,” said someone who wasn’t Inu’s boyfriend. “But, yeah, I should change it back. I didn’t expect something I put in as an experiment to be so dramatic…” Iori actually seemed quite guilt-ridden, which made Inu feel a bit guilty in turn. It wasn’t like the suit had _harmed_  him. It had just taken him quite off guard. And he had mostly recovered from the shock already.

“There’s no need for that. It was actually an interesting experience,” Inu said with what he hoped was enough confidence to ease Iori’s concern. “And I think I can get used to it. I’ll try it again later.” Later as in when he was alone, preferably. Maybe next time he was in the mood to masturbate. Not that the real function wasn’t interesting, but it was probably functionally useless if he had to work around that level of arousal to get anything done.

Iori crossed his arms and sighed, relieved. “Okay,” he said. “It’s up to you.”

Two days later, Inu was in his room, hunched over his computer, as per usual. He had tried and failed to identify any probable cause for the arousal he’d experienced when he’d used the experimental feature of his regalia. Unsurprisingly, it seemed that in order to have any hope of identifying the cause, let alone devising a way to filter it out, he would have to gather some data. Also unsurprisingly, he was ok with that.

He had already rigged his room up with every kind of recording or measuring device he had access too, and made sure his desktop computer would record everything it could while he was plugged into it. The only thing left to do was to activate Probe Regalia and plug the USB plug into his computer.

Of course, if everything went well, he intended to enjoy it to the fullest, but. The USB plug was a small but daunting obstacle—he’d have to deal with it again, and it was downright creepy. It had appeared, quite literally, out of nowhere. Where normally there was skin, bone, blood, organs…did activating the Probe Regalia somehow alter that? Replace parts of him? Displace them? How did a USB plug effectively connect his mind to a computer in the first place? If he’d been told before all this that there was a way to control computers with his mind he would have been excited for it, but now, not understanding how any of it worked, it just bothered him.

Inu sighed, leaned back in his chair, and stared at the ceiling. Not understanding it was also exactly what he hoped to rectify through this test, so it was time to quit griping and get to it. There was more than likely nothing to fear; and the experience was really less likely to be unpleasant and more likely to be orgasmic—possibly literally. And he couldn’t deny that he was far more excited about the possibilities than he was scared of a little physics-defying.

He turned around in his chair and sat up on his knees, then took one long, deep breath, and activated Probe Regalia.

Inu ran his fingers down his back until his fingertips caught on the rough edge of the USB plug, which was oriented laterally and positioned just at the end of his spinal cord. The tip of the USB plug was flush with the rest of the fabric, but there were small indentations in the fabric—and by extension, his skin?—on either side of the plug that allowed just barely enough room to get a grip on it. It took Inu a few tries to get a firm enough grip on the thing to pull it out. Logically, the space this thing would have to occupy was where one of his vertebrae should have been. Yet, his spine felt perfectly intact and present even as he pulled increasing amounts of wire from the small rectangular hole in his lower back. 

Morbid curiosity pushed him to see just how _much_  of the wire there was to pull out. At the same time, he wasn’t sure if he /really/ wanted to know, so he went slowly, pulling a few inches at a time with each hand. He found quite quickly that he did indeed have some sensation of the wire leaving his body, and that it was stronger the faster he pulled. This seemed like just another reason to go slowly. There was also some resistance, some self-retracting force that sucked the wire back in until it was taut, if he left it any slack. He didn’t care to let himself speculate about the nature of this force.

He estimated he had about a meter and a half of wire looped up when his next tug finally met with significant resistance, and also granted the distinct sensation that he was tugging on his own guts. He tried to banish the sensation and any thoughts regarding it from his mind immediately, and he let a few feet of wire zip back inside, vowing never to let that happen again.

Alright, that was enough fucking around with unpleasant things. It was high time he got to the part of this experiment that actually stood a chance of being fun. Inu searched around for a binder clip and clamped it onto the wire to prevent it from retracting, leaving himself about a meter of slack. He did _not_  need to feel it sliding in and out every time he moved around. Finally, he took the plug end and unceremoniously plugged it into the computer tower.

He was braced for it this time, but he still hissed at the sudden shock of the connection. The data—no, it wasn’t just data, but everything about the computer—its very being, he wanted to say, was suddenly present alongside his own mind. It was quite calming. Inu wasn’t an especially spiritual person, but he couldn’t deny that this was almost a spiritual experience. Hell, he might even describe it as sensual, arousing, except that he knew the really arousing part was yet to come. 

And come it did. Exactly as it had been the first time, the presence of the computer in his mind was followed swiftly by shivers of pleasure that traveled up his spine, down his arms and legs, and spread to every inch of his skin, leaving in their wake a tingling sensation and an intense desire for contact, for more.

He grabbed onto the back of his chair, pressing his mouth into the fake leather, feeling the need to hold _something_. His thoughts grew clouded and hazy and far away, and his awareness of his surroundings dimmed. His vision unfocused, sounds felt muted, everything was pushed to the back of his mind to make room for pure lust.

Shock, panic and adrenaline had kept him focused last time, a few days ago. But now there was nothing getting in the way, and so he felt the effects even more strongly. Inu tried for a moment to feel some obligation to use this opportunity to ascertain the actual cause of his lust. That was technically the goal of this exercise after all, and he should try to look at the data now while he was…

Ugh, fuck. Fuck it. He was now hornier than he’d ever been in his life; thinking about things other than his growing erection was asking too much. He unleashed his grip on the chair with one hand and grabbed his…grabbed…uh…shit. Inu looked down and remembered that there was no zipper to unzip, no pants to pull down, and no way to get to his dick when his uniform was in this mode. Shit, why hadn’t he considered this earlier? Fuck! What kind of scientist was he?

For a few minutes, he tried rubbing along the length of the bulge in his uniform with the heel of his palm. He braced himself against the back of the chair with his left hand and put as much force as he could into massaging his dick with his right. But the material covering his arms and entire lower body was nylon-like and had little friction, and his hand mostly just slipped ineffectively. After a few minutes of this, he was panting hard and he felt like a joke. He was going to just explode if he didn’t get some actual satisfaction.

Inu groaned and bit into his chair in frustration. Some part of his mind warned him that he was going to leave teeth marks in the shitty fake leather, but he didn’t care. Being this strung out and not being able to get off properly was torturous. If there was some way, any way, to…he could cut the fabric, perhaps, and…it almost seemed worth it, at this point, even at the cost of having to explain what happened to Iori later.

Still, there had to be another way. Life fibers could put keyboards on his arms and legs, they could allow him to engage in thought-interface with his computer, and they could create optical camouflage so good that everybody kept calling it invisibility. So surely they could just…open up somehow and let him fucking get off right now. He was about ready to beg. Hell, what did he have to lose?

“OPEN UP!” Inu shouted at his crotch. Or, he intended to shout it. The words came out in more of a pleading moan, and not nearly as forcefully as he intended. 

He waited for a minute, not really expecting anything to happen. At first, it didn’t seem like anything did. But a few seconds later, he felt the fabric shift against the skin of his dick, and it slowly pulled away from either side, a gap forming and widening and stopping only when it was about three centimeters wide and ten long, exposing his whole crotch to the air. Inu was almost too astonished to react. The revelation that the uniforms could actually DO that was nearly as exhilarating as the thought that he could masturbate properly now.

There was, however, not a moment to waste thinking about how or why life fibers had responded intelligently to his demands. Inu immediately took advantage of the new situation and—finally—grabbed his dick. He jerked himself off, using long, forceful strokes, running his thumb across the tip of the glans with every third or fourth motion. It was pure bliss after the long minutes of frustration. Within minutes he was groaning into his forearm as he leaned heavily on the back of the chair.

He slowed down slightly, then stopped entirely as he felt himself nearing orgasm. It would be too much of a waste to let it end so quickly; he hadn’t even scratched the surface of what he felt was possible.

Impatiently, he turned around to sit properly in the chair and grabbed the edge of his desk, pulling himself over to the drawers on the left. Opening the bottom one, he grabbed a bottle of lube and leaned back, slouching in the chair and bringing his ass forward.

He coated his fingers in a liberal amount of the goop, using even more than usual to account for the amount the gloves of his uniform absorbed. The fabric would probably be stained. He didn’t care. He let his fingers wander down to press lightly against the skin of his entrance, rubbing in small circles to loosen the muscle. Past experiences had conditioned him not to neglect due preparation no matter how impatient he was.

Once he felt relaxed enough, he slipped one finger through and curled it around, searching for the best spot to press. He gasped out loud when he found it. Quickly he squeezed another finger in alongside the first, and pressed harder. This time he outright moaned. He stroked his dick with his free had, until this once again brought him too close to finishing too soon, and he had to ease off. Instead, he began thrusting with his fingers and scissoring them apart, seeking as much friction as possible, breaths growing longer and shakier by the minute.

Suddenly even that wasn’t good enough. He haphazardly shoved his fingers as far in as he could get them, throwing caution to the wind, not even caring, just needing more. His pants turned to whines, needy and high-pitched. There had to be more. He cast his thoughts out to remember anything he had that could do a better job than just his fingers. There was nothing. He’d never bought any type of sex toy, just lube, and now he cursed his lack of forethought even as he curled and twisted his fingers inside himself.

What could he do? All he needed was something sufficiently long and rounded, and preferably hot and hard, and…well. He knew where his thoughts were straying.

Iori…Iori was just down the hallway in his own room. The thought of getting him to come here, now, and…Inu bit the knuckle of his index finger and smiled, losing himself in the fantasy for a moment.

But the risks…anybody would be put off by a request like “please come over asap and fuck me silly” from somebody they considered a friend and nothing more. And Inu wasn’t sure where exactly on the scale from friend to love interest he fell in Iori’s mind. The chances that he would be receptive to the idea were nonzero—he’d always responded pretty well to Inu’s flirting—but they weren’t one hundred percent either, and Inu didn’t really want to fuck his chances with Iori forever by grossing him out now.

Inu stopped, pulled his fingers out of his ass, and tried to think seriously through the lust clouding his mind and the impatient demands of his body. Iori was…was…Inu didn’t have words for the things he felt when he thought about him. If he divulged the full extent of his desires to Iori, and Iori rejected him, or was disgusted… That would pretty much be the worst case scenario. He would rather keep his feelings hidden forever than face certain rejection, if it came down to it.

The only thing keeping him from immediately discarding the thought of contacting Iori now, then, was the hope that if he did reciprocate Inu’s feelings, he might not only be DTF tonight, but after that…! Inu shied away from thoughts that made his head spin.

The thought of being lo…liked by Iori was just as titillating as the thought of disgusting him was terrifying. How could he figure out which way the odds were tipped within the next few minutes? _Could_  he figure it out? He supposed he could…just…ask. Not directly of course. But if he could just ascertain how Iori felt about him, he could infer…he was desperate. 

Time to do this.

First, he hastily wiped his dirty hand off on a tissue. He sat up, leaned over to his desk and went fishing in the bottom drawer again—this time for an unopened box of condoms in the very back. He had never known whether he was ever going to need these or not—hell, he still didn’t know if he was going to need them. He opened the box and took one out, putting it on the desk, before returning the rest to the drawer.

Iori was in his own room, sketching possible alterations and improvements to the one star Ultima Uniforms. Inu knew this because he was watching it transpire through the camera feed, which was fed live to his computer and, therefore, for now, straight into his mind. There were cameras installed in every room of the school as a rule, in case of emergencies, but he had never made an active attempt to spy on somebody like this before. It didn’t exactly give him a good feeling, but it was a lot easier to give into the temptation when the video was literally only a thought away.

Inu snatched his cell phone off his desk. He took a deep breath to try to clear his mind as much as possible, and called Iori. He then watched him grab the phone from his desk, pull off his mask, and answer it.

“S-Shiro?” Inu said. His voice came out sticky, low and strained, barely concealing his arousal, if at all. He groaned internally, but cleared his throat and gave it one more try. “There’s something I want to ask you.” It was no better. Shit.

“Inumuta?” came the reply. “Are you ok? Do you have a cold? Uh…Anyways, what is it?” Shitshitshit. Inu was not prepared for this, after all. He hadn’t even thought of what he was going to ask! He was used to never needing to prepare things like that beforehand.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. What I wanted to know was, uh…” Ok, calm down. Ask as indirectly as possible…

“Yeah?”

“Did you…I mean, what exactly is the USB plug you put on the Probe Regalia supposed to do?”

“Well…I told you the other day. I don’t know. I just thought you might think it was cool.”

“Cool?”

“Y-yeah. Is it? Have you tried it again? Is that why you’re calling?”

Fuck it. This was too hard to understand right now. “Shiro…I know how this sounds, but…how do you feel? About me?”

The line was silent for a long moment.

“Are you asking me if I like you?”

“I guess so, yeah.”

More silence. 

“W-why are you asking that now? And why over the phone?”

“Because I…” Inu trailed off, not sure whether to continue. He was sitting alone in a sticky puddle of lube, half crazed with lust and sporting a raging erection through the crotch hole in his uniform. He was barely managing to form intelligible words, and this was the situation in which he found himself wanting to confess his feelings? The only way this could be less romantic is…he couldn’t think of a way, actually, but he was sure it would be difficult. 

But what the hell. He was already halfway through this awful confession already, and Iori was twirling his hair nervously around his left index finger, waiting for him to continue. There was only one conclusion he could possibly come to if Inu hung up now anyways. Better to say it, right? He told himself it was.

“I want to know because I like you.” Inu felt a rush of adrenaline as he said the words. He had to take the phone away from his mouth for a moment so that he could swear quietly in fear and excitement.

When he returned his focus to the conversation and Iori, he did a double take. Iori had left his room. Inu panicked. Where did he go? He scanned the video feeds. There he was. Walking with haste down the exact hallway that would take him to Inu’s bedroom. Inu panicked harder.

“Where are you going?” He asked. There was no reply. Iori had left his phone in his room, Inu noticed. He hung up and tossed the now useless phone onto his desk.

That could have gone better. But he couldn’t redo it now. Iori would be here in 5 seconds, give or take. There wasn’t even any time for damage control. Inu just swiveled his chair around to face the door and waited with a pit in his stomach.

He watched Iori speedwalk down the hallway and stop in front of his door. He glanced up at the camera fixed above the door before knocking; he was blushing slightly. That was good? Maybe? It gave Inu some hope, at least.

Iori knocked. “Inumuta?” He opened the door a crack. “Sorry for leaving you hanging, but I wanted to talk about this in person…umm…” He had opened the door wide enough to see Inu’s glory at full mast, with Inu himself performing a textbook facepalm.

Inu could see the gears turning in Iori’s head as he tried to piece together what was going on. Fearing what conclusions he might reach on his own, Inu hurried to present an explanation.

“T-the Probe Regalia kind of…became like this. Somehow. I was getting around to explaining this part…” He groaned inwardly. That was NOT an adequate explanation.

“Uh-huh.” said Iori, who was now growing redder by the second. Inu could only stare dumbly. He was out of coherent thoughts. Iori, against all odds, seemed to decide not to run away screaming. Instead, he approached Inu slowly, taking in the scene before him. His eyes traced the wire leading from Inu’s lower back to the computer tower, and he seemed to reach a decision. He asked “So, um, is this the result of plugging the Probe Regalia in…?”

Inu didn’t really have a good answer to that. But, somehow, words came out of his mouth anyways. “T-take responsibility.” He lifted his head to look Iori in the eye as he said it.

Wait, what? That wasn’t right, was it? That line belonged in a generic romcom. It wasn’t something he would usually say…probably. He wasn’t too sure right now. His mouth kept moving, heedless of his confusion. “Y-your answer to the question was going to be yes, right? S-so take responsibility, please.”

Iori was clearly having some trouble processing the situation. He tried to look at Inu’s face, but his gaze darted down and lingered on his dick before darting back upwards. He covered his mouth with his hand, uncovered it, covered it again, almost said something but didn’t. Finally, he walked forward to grab the armrests of the chair, bringing his face just inches from Inu’s, and declared with a shaking voice, “Inumuta, I do _not know_  how to respond to that! I mean, I…” he trailed off, lost again.

Inu was compelled to help him out. Or, no. Helping was not quite what he was compelled to do. He reached up with his clean hand to touch Iori’s cheek, lightly, just barely, leaning in slowly, hesitantly, to close the gap between their mouths. He stopped just short of actually kissing him, wanting to but fearing still that Iori didn’t want it. Inu left it up to Iori whether to follow through or not.

He did.

Iori’s mouth was hot and sticky and sweet and perfect. The first time, and the second time, and the third time, and the time after that. By the time they broke apart, gasping for breath, Iori was on top of Inu, was straddling his legs. Their bodies pressed tightly together, squeezing Inu’s dick between the two of them. Iori’s nails dug sharply into Inu’s shoulders through the cloth.

Iori scooted back slightly, then reached down with one hand and traced his fingers lightly down Inu’s abdomen. Once they reached the fuzz of his pubic hair they pulled away, only to move to his dick, trailing up the shaft and feeling the contours of the head. Iori’s touch was light and delicate; he was understanding the shape of the thing, not aiming to please just yet. The anticipation had Inu whimpering.

Iori’s eyes darted back up to Inu’s face, covered though it was. “This is what I’m supposed to take responsibility for, huh?” he said, his tone no longer panicked but amused. Inu couldn’t even be mad at himself for having said something so stupid. It was worth it now. He nodded once, dumbly, wishing he could trust his mouth to say more.

Iori slid down off the chair to kneel on the ground then, leaning in to reach around and grab Inu’s waist with one hand and wrapping his other more tightly around Inu’s dick, with which he was now face to face.

“It looks bigger from down here…” he mumbled, dragging his tongue across the glans before enveloping the whole head with his lips. Inu let out a long moan and breathed with increasing raggedness as Iori worked his way down the shaft, more and more eagerly with each oscillation. 

Iori lifted his head and let his lips slide off the tip of Inu’s cock. He glanced up. “How’m I doing?” he said, his voice now thicker and lower with arousal.

“G-good,” Inu managed to stutter out. The break in stimulation was agony, but it prompted him to remember the reason he’d wanted to call Iori in the first place.

“Wait—wait a sec,” he said when Iori started lowering his head again.

“What?” Iori asked. Inu didn’t reply. He took Iori by the shoulders and pushed him away gently. The lube and singular condom were still on the desk behind him. He hastily reached back to grab them, dropping both on the floor before joining Iori there himself.

Iori eyed the new objects uneasily while Inu hastily fumbled to unzip his pants. After he got them unbuttoned Iori took pity on him and stood up, pulling his pants down to his ankles, boxers and all. He revealed a semi-erection that was well on its way to matching Inu’s in intensity.

Inu wasted no time at all wrapping his lips around it, sucking and bobbing, practically drooling over it. Iori’s vocalizations were exquisite, and the thought occurred to Inu that he could listen to them all day—literally, this was all being recorded by the tools he’d set up earlier. In a matter of seconds Iori was hard enough for the condom. Inu might have liked to continue, but for now there were more pressing priorities. He tore the package open with his teeth and started rolling the condom down Iori’s length.

Iori’s eyes widened ever so slightly in realization as he watched. He reached down to feel the latex sheath covering him with his fingers. Inu leaned back and slumped over in the chair, took the bottle of lube and—

“Hold on. Shouldn’t we move over to, um…” Iori was leaning over Inu and grabbing the armrests of the chair, but he was staring a few feet to the right, at Inu’s bed. “…you know?” Right. The bed was probably within the meter or so radius allowed by the wire protruding from his back. He sat up a little and made a grunt of affirmation.

After walking the few feet to his bed on shaky legs, Inu dropped down on his back on top of the covers. When Iori appeared in his field of vision, he propped himself on one elbow and dragged him in by the shirt collar for one more long, deep kiss.

Inu released Iori and handed him the bottle of lube after applying some to his own fingers again. He hurried through the same preparatory steps he had taken not thirty minutes ago, much less patiently this time. Iori watched, fascinated, his face flushing red when Inu moaned after hooking his fingers into his prostate.

Inu removed his fingers after not even two minutes, wanting to hurry things along. He’d reawakened the desperate feeling of need that had gotten him into this situation, and his patience was plunging into negative values.

Iori took Inu’s knees and slowly spread them apart, but then hesitated, irritatingly. He leaned over Inu, supporting his weight with one hand, the other loosely around his own lube-soaked cock. His hair fell down over his shoulders and dangled a few inches from Inu’s face.

“Inum—H-Houka… You’re sure about this, right?” he asked quietly. Inu groaned. What a stupid question. He’d never been more sure about anything in his life.

“Yeah, so—hurry,” he croaked out. “Please.” He put forth every ounce of mental energy he had left into making that last word sound as desperate as possible. It worked well. Iori stopped talking.

Instead, he pressed into Inu, sliding past the initial hurdle fairly easily; he’d certainly applied enough lube. He pushed in slowly, but smoothly. When he was all the way in, he paused again, this time to stare down at Inu, whose right hand was laid across his forehead. Iori grabbed it by the wrist and moved it out of the way. It seemed like a pointless gesture, since it wasn’t like he could see through the visor either way, but Inu didn’t care nearly enough to complain.

“You ok so far?” Iori gasped the words out. Inu would be ok only after Iori started moving. But he couldn’t say that. Like, physically couldn’t.

He managed something like a “mmmh” that was more a noise of pleasure than affirmation.

“Okay,” said Iori. He steadied himself by putting his right hand on Inu’s hip, leaned most of his weight into his left hand, still grasping Inu’s wrist, and started to move.

He went slowly at first, but sped up to a more moderate pace within seconds. His grip on Inu’s wrist shifted slightly with each thrust, mashing the keyboard there and sending streams of gibberish straight into Inu’s consciousness. It was so in line with what was already going through his mind that he barely even noticed.

Inu thought he could hear Iori’s irregular, heavy breaths somewhere above him, but he wasn’t sure. He was barely noticing his own pants and moans. His whole body felt warm, almost hot. Eyes closed, blocking out extraneous thoughts the best he could, he was concentrating wholly on experiencing the moment to its fullest. The rocking, the heat pounding into him rhythmically from behind, each time sending a jolt of pleasure that made his cock twitch, bringing him higher and higher, closer to some plateau. 

Iori. That heat was Iori. Thinking that, understanding it fully, sent waves of happiness through him. It pulsated, consumed him, filled his entire being to bursting. He had to let it out, to express it. He had to let Iori know how happy he was, or…!

He tried to say it, to get his tongue and vocal chords and lips all to coordinate together to form a word, a sound, anything. He gasped. He stammered. He swallowed. He choked. He did not speak. His need did not subside.

Desperately, now, he cast about for some way to get through to Iori. He searched the deepest recesses of his mind, hoping, praying, until, finally, he found an outlet. The outlet was a speaker. It was mounted on the ceiling of this very room, and was present in Inu’s mind through the capabilities of the uniform Iori had made for him. Inu channeled all of his feelings into that speaker, and it spoke for him.

“SHIRO!” shouted the speaker with all off Inu’s being.

“H-houka?” Iori said, looking up, searching for the source of the sound.

He did it! “Shiro!” the speaker exclaimed again in Inu’s voice. “Shiro, I love you!”

Iori stopped looking up. He started looking back down at Inu. This time, Inu felt like Iori _could_  see through his obnoxious visor, could really see everything about him. Inu had never been happier. He had reached that plateau now.

“Houka, I…” Iori choked before he could say any more. Inu thought he saw tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He smiled, and lifted his free hand to Iori’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss. It was brief, but genuine, and they both understood each other fully for that one moment.

Iori broke away from Inu’s mouth and sped up his motions, which had all but stopped. He took his right hand off of Inu’s hip and wrapped it around his dick instead. He jerked Inu off in time with his own thrusts, bringing them both to a finish only seconds apart.

Moments later, Iori pulled out, peeled the condom off, and tossed it in the trash. Inu had to lay still for a moment, waiting for some of his sanity to return. It was taking its time.

He realized he was still connected to his computer, and dragged himself over to the machine to unplug from it. His mind became significantly clearer almost immediately, as a large portion of the haziness obscuring it dissipated, and his body started coming down from its state of overstimulation. He noticed, suddenly, that his uniform was both drenched in sweat and covered in his own ejaculate.

The entire length of wire zipped back into place as soon as he removed the clamp, and Inu remembered how freaked out he’d been by it before. For all his queasiness over it, he had hardly thought about it once after he’d plugged it into his computer. He couldn’t bring himself to really mind it now.

He reversed the transformation of Probe Regalia and hastily stripped off the sweaty uniform, leaving only his underwear. He took a moment to appreciate that he’d never had to take his boxers off to have sex, thanks to life fibers. 

He tossed his dirty clothes on the bed, followed by himself, and crawled over to flop down next to Iori, who had also discarded his shirt and jacket. They lay still together, breathing, not saying anything, both reveling in the intensity of the experience they’d shared.

Finally, when the sweat had started to evaporate from their skin, Iori rolled over on his side to face Inu and broke the silence.

“Thank you, Houka,” he said, nervously, waiting for Inu to turn and face him before continuing, “I…I love you.”

Inu wordlessly pulled Iori into a tight embrace. The two hugged each other closely, so much so that Inu swore he could feel Iori’s heartbeat.

When they pulled apart, Iori swept a hand through his hair and declared “Well, I’m a mess.” 

They were indeed both nude and sweaty. 

“Should we go take a bath?” asked Inu.

“That sounds good…but I don’t want to get up, or put on wet clothes…” Iori rolled over onto his back and contemplated the ceiling.

“We don’t need to put on clothes to walk a few hundred feet to the bath in the middle of the night,” said Inu, a smirk forming on his face.

Iori balked. “Easy for you to say. At least you’ve got underwear on…” Inu quickly pulled down his boxers without breaking eye contact. Iori blushed a little. 

“…Alright. You win, smartass. Let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> I noticed that there was no smut for this pairing on this site yet so that means this is the first, I'm honored to have this privilege


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